Foresight
by fineh
Summary: She gives him a crooked smile that makes his heart skip a beat. He rubs his chest and chalks it up to heartburn from the meatball sub he Robin Hooded from Dave yesterday. His brain tells him he's too young for heartburn, he tells his brain to shut up. / In which Zay spots the inevitable. Zayadora One Shot.


_Requested by anonymous._

 _ **Pairings: Zayadora, mentions of Riarkle, established Smarkle**_

 _ **Word Count: 4167**_

 _ **Rating T: some "violence"**_

 _ **In which Zay spots the inevitable.**_

* * *

It's clear as day to him that that relationship is going to end in disaster.

The familiar group of teenagers clustered around the table is studying for something. They're always studying. He watches as a pretty brunette pushes her equally pretty male counterpart. Her face is alight with laughter as the male with the chiseled jawline leans into her and presses his face into her chestnut curls way longer than someone in an established relationship should. Zay's eyes drift to the girl with midnight black hair. She's perched awkwardly on the edge of a couch that is clearly meant for two. And although legally she isn't the third wheel, in this case, she is. She always is.

The tiny line between her brows indicates that she is well aware of that.

Getting up, he makes his way over to Ms. Katy and pays her for the apple juice he took his sweet time drinking. He feels her eyes on him as he hands Ms. Katy a five dollar bill. On impulse, he leans in and whispers something in Ms. Katy's ear. Ms. Katy nods and gives him a smile that says she knows something he doesn't.

When he leaves her eyes are still on him. No longer on the non-couple sitting beside to her.

He doesn't see the smile that replaces the frown that had marred her beautiful forehead as Ms. Katy places a beautifully decorated glazed pastry in front of the spectacle wearing genius. He doesn't see the wistful way she stares at the doorway he just departed through.

* * *

The next time he visits Topanga's, Ms. Katy informs him that the three dollars and fifty cents he spent were well worth it. Grabbing his drink he goes back to his corner. The same group of kids enters once more and arrange themselves in the same position as the previous day. He takes a look at the three bodies on the couch.

Things aren't going to end well.

* * *

It takes her a week to approach him. She cuts him off at his locker. It's still on the other side of the hallway away from the rest of his friends. The school does things alphabetically so he has no locker buddy. Not like the others. Hart is close to Friar and Matthews is pretty darn close to Minkus. Shaking his head he turns his attention back to Smackle. The only other person in their group that doesn't have a locker buddy stands in front of him a while, shifting from foot to foot tugging on her bright yellow dress sleeve. She looks adorable.

"Thank you!" She finally blurts out, he can't help but suppress a smile. Smackle still hasn't gotten the hang of small talk, she's very vocal about how pointless and useless it is in science. Why fluff when you can get right to the point? Secretly he agrees, but Riley would kill him if he added fuel to Isadora's fire.

He inclines his head in her direction, if he was wearing a hat he would have tipped it. "You're welcome, sugar."

Her eyes crinkle at him, "It was very thoughtful of you Isaiah."

She insists on calling him Isaiah as much as he insists on calling her Izzy.

He shrugs, "It's been known to happen."

She gives him a crooked smile that makes his heart skip a beat. He rubs his chest and chalks it up to heartburn from the meatball sub he Robin Hooded from Dave yesterday. His brain tells him he's too young for heartburn, he tells his brain to shut up.

She turns to walk away, against his better judgment Zay finds himself calling out after her.

"Isadora," her full name out of his mouth is a stark contrast from the traditional "Izzy." He sees her tense up, he hates himself for what he's about to say.

"Yes, Isaiah?"

He pauses a moment unsure if he should actually say it. In the end, the need to protect her wins over the need to keep his mouth shut.

"You deserve better than someone who is in love with someone else."

Isadora immediately bristles, "He is not—"

He cuts her off, "He is." He wouldn't be opening his big fat mouth if he wasn't.

"You are mistaken, Isaiah Babineaux. Farkle is in love with me." She's fierce with her words and he hates that the thing she's most confident about is about to come crashing down. "And I love him. He is kind, considerate, and thoughtful."

They stare at each other a moment longer. Neither of them mentions the fact that she had just thanked him for being thoughtful. Something that according to her is Farkle's job. They also don't mention that maybe if Farkle would have spent more time paying attention to his _girlfriend_ and not Riley he would have noticed she was upset. Something that Zay from his position _across_ the room had been able to notice.

"Now if you'll excuse me."

She's gone before he can say another word. He shakes his head as he watches her walk away, her back ramrod straight. He knows she sees it. But as smart as she is, she refuses to accept it.

He _knows_ it isn't going to end well.

* * *

She acknowledges him with a nod the next time she sees him. He's sitting in what has long been deemed his corner, this day, no different than any other. There's still a glimmer of animosity buried deep in her eyes, no doubt still thinking about their conversation the other day. He nods back, she smiles but it wavers when Riley and Farkle walk in, together. Hugs are exchanged. Everything is normal until Isadora shoves her way between Riley and Farkle, a huge smile on her face while she does it. He chokes on his apple juice. She's never done anything as bold as that.

Zay can see everything from his corner. Every shrug, every batted lash, playful shove. Every angry glare, disgruntled conversation, awkward first date. So it's not hard to see Isadora's actions for what they really are. An attempt to lessen the amount of contact between Riley and Farkle.

In the short amount of time he's been observing people he's managed to learn a lot of things from people and the way they interact. These observations helped him realize that he and Vanessa weren't anything more than a short page in the long book that is life.

It's painful to see that Smackle has come to the same conclusion about Farkle but still refuses to accept it. But the way she purses her lips every time they talk over her tells him that she might be one step closer to admitting it.

He's seen makeups and breakups, something tells him that Farkle's and Smackle's is one he will have the displeasure of witnessing.

* * *

"Izzy, it's not going to work."

She doesn't even try to play coy. "It's my relationship Isaiah. Not yours."

He knows that but he's trying to help. He hates it when people get hurt.

"Yeah—but"

She holds up a finger, "No buts. Stay out of it."

"Izzy…" She doesn't get it.

"I'll say it again Isaiah." She steps closer, ignoring his pleading eyes. "Stay out of it."

She waits for his nod of assent, after she gets it she leaves. He stares at her retreating back.

"I can't." He whispers.

* * *

He tries anyway.

He does a good job, he thinks, until he and Lucas turn the corner in time to see Farkle throw his arm around Riley. Lucas keeps talking about his baseball stats, but Zay's narrowed eyes are on Farkle and Riley. They're laughing, probably on the way to their next class. Isadora is right next to them trying to keep pace with the long legged teens stride.

She can't.

She trips, the slam of her books on the polished tile lost in the hustle and bustle of the day. Riley and Farkle don't even notice. He rushes by them resisting the urge to trip Farkle.

Smackle is busy trying to stop people from stepping on her meticulously taken notes to notice him. He reaches for a page on the Byzantine Empire the same time she does. His fingers close over hers and there's a small prickle at the edge of his hand, a whisper of synapses awakening. Her eyes snap to his, the frames not thick enough to hide her shock or the sheen of tears that have glazed over her eyes.

"Izzy—"

"What do you want Isaiah? I'm busy." Her need for order is gone, he notes as she blindly shoves pages into her binder. Bending down, he picks up her textbooks stacking them in order of use, just how she always does it. He's barely finished when she's yanking them out his grasp.

"Izzy—" He tries again, she turns away from him. Before he can think he's grabbing her by the wrist, her things go tumbling to the ground. Again.

The small pinprick he feels flares, a hot wave of…of… _something_ is washing over him. He ignores it, forcing her to look at him.

"Isadora." Glassy eyes stare back at him. Suddenly, his don't feel so dry.

"Isaiah." He hates the way her voice breaks.

She looks down at where his hand is gently encircling her wrist. Reluctantly, he lets go. Wordlessly, he gathers her stuff again. When he hands it back to her a tear has managed to escape. He reaches out to wipe it, but she stumbles out of his reach, almost tripping again in an effort to avoid his touch. He's left arm outstretched as she disappears into the throng of high schoolers.

Dropping his hand, he clenches and unclenches it over the strap of his bag. He turns on his heel each footstep full of determination. He doesn't know what he's going to do. All he knows is that he has to do something.

He's done staying out of it.

He misses the peculiar look Lucas gives him as he tries to piece everything together. Zay doesn't see Lucas but Lucas see's it all. Including the way he looks now. The look he gets when he's about to do _something._ Only this time it's not him. It's _Zay._ The clenched jaw, balled fists, tense shoulders, flared nostrils. The signs are all there. Breaking out into a jog he chases Zay.

Zay is unaware of Lucas following him. His feet are carrying him somewhere, his body merely cooperating. It's luck really when he sees Farkle exit a classroom. A pink pass held in his hand. His hands react faster than his brain, in seconds he has Farkle pressed up against the lockers. His hands held securely above his head. The pink pass flutters slowly to the ground. Neither of them notices. A trash can by the corner rattles, but he can't be bothered to care.

"Get your act together or stay away from her." He hisses as Farkle struggles against him. Farkle might be tall but Zay is brawnier. A lot of anger packed into a small package.

He's dynamite, his fuse is short.

"From who?" Farkle asks confused.

The fuse gets shorter. He would love nothing more than to sock him right in the face, but he doesn't because the poor kid is probably just as confused as anyone in his situation would be.

"Isadora Smackle, that's who. You're treating her like crap and quite frankly, I don't like it."

"I'm not."

"You are. She fell just now and you weren't even there to pick her up." He doesn't tell him that she cried because it's none of Farkle's business. "Ya didn't even notice." Farkle has the decency to look ashamed. "But ya woulda if it was Riley Matthews. Wouldn't ya?" His accent is becoming more pronounced, something that only happens when he's furious. Trying to regain control he takes a breath and counts to ten.

1, 2, 3, 4…

Farkle opens his mouth…

5, 6…

…then closes it. He hangs his head.

7, 8, 9, 10…

Zay's relaxed enough to control himself. He's so relaxed he almost feels bad for him, almost. So instead he crowds him, savoring his uneasiness. It's no secret that Farkle is claustrophobic.

"Treat her right. If you don't wanna—don't. It's that simple. Back in Texas, we don't fall for people who aren't our girlfriends. And if we do, we don't cheat on them emotionally. We come back fighting or we end it." He lets go of his shirt enjoying the way Farkle crumples to the ground. "I don't wanna have this conversation again."

He leaves him there hoping that he's managed to get through to him. His mind is racing, his blood still pumping harshly. He narrowly avoids tripping over Lucas, who is sitting next to an overturned trash can. He raises a questioning brow at his Texan friend. His Texan friend raises one back.

They fall into step, they're already late to class.

"What was," Lucas jabs his thumb in the general vicinity of where he left Farkle. "That?"

The fuse has fizzled out and all he's left with is a bunch of questions and answers he doesn't particularly care for. Answers that will only complicate an already complicated situation.

"Nuthin'."

The end is nipping at his heels.

* * *

There's a new routine. The group of teens has whittled down to just two. Isadora and Farkle are now the only two people who go to Topanga's anymore. The day after his talk with Farkle they showed up together, alone. He wonders what the group chat for their study group looks like.

They seem to be getting closer. His talk seems to have had the effect he wanted. So why doesn't he feel happy? All he feels is this constant sense of irritation that distracts him from the reason he goes to Topanga's in the first place. He's unable to concentrate. His people watching is now devoted to two specific people.

He still goes because he's always gone. Ms. Katy provides him with an endless supply of swirly straws and apple juice along with several knowing looks. The juice tastes bitter and his smiles become fake.

Suddenly he can't see the end.

He doesn't like that.

* * *

He keeps going until one day he stops. He tells himself he needs a change of scenery. It has nothing to do with Smackle and Farkle. He needs a new place to people watch and Central Park is the perfect place.

He sits on the hard bench day after day sipping a bottle of orange juice because the apple juice he bought the first day tasted like dishwater.

He misses his cozy spot. The city is too loud. People are rude and if he's being honest he enjoys watching people fall in love more than watching strangers bumping into each other. And while there are families with children who play in sandboxes and fly kites he's not at that point of his life.

But he still shows up because he finds that it keeps his thoughts from straying in a direction that he only allows when it's midnight and he's alone.

It's then he admits to himself that maybe he was wrong to worry about her. Maybe she was right. Of course she was, she's the genius. Not him.

Maybe they managed to avoid the destruction he was sure was going to happen.

* * *

One day he sees Riley amble by looking as lost as he feels.

Maybe he wasn't wrong.

* * *

He's too focused on trying to read the last fifteen pages of a book that was assigned to them last month to notice that the frown that once marred one face has transferred onto another. The new owner is a brunette whose amber eyes betray nothing. The group chatters away as he flips another page.

"Zay."

He grunts, not really paying attention.

"Isaiah Earl Babineaux!" A hand meets the back of his head and he's forced to look up at the annoyed blonde.

"What?!" He exclaims.

"I said my mom asked about you yesterday."

"Ms. Katy?" Closing his book he looks up at her. "Why?"

"Well, first she asked me if you were okay and I said you were. Which you are, right?" Beside her Lucas shifts uneasily, he shoots him a glare. Riley stops staring at Farkle's head long enough to quirk a brow at him. Even Smackle looks up from her textbook. Everyone is watching their conversation with avid interest. Maya's still babbling, "Then, she said to come by when you're ready. Whatever that means."

He knows exactly what Ms. Katy meant. Avoiding eye contact with everyone he opens up his book setting it back in his lap. Out of the corner of his eyes he can see Smackle and Farkle's intertwined hands.

 _"We don't fall for people who aren't our girlfriends."_ God, he's such a hypocrite.

"Tell her I'll be by soon."

* * *

True to his word he stands outside the bakery early the next morning. The sign still says 'closed' but he pushes the door open anyways. The bell tinkles as he walks in.

"We're closed!" Comes Ms. Katy's voice somewhere in the back.

"It's your favorite customer!" He calls out closing the door behind him.

"Lucas?" She calls out, her tone teasing.

"Aw, Ms. Katy you wound me." He clutches his heart dramatically just as she steps out from the storage room, carrying a tray of wet mugs. He makes his way further into the room, stopping in front of her he holds out his arms for the tray.

"My favorite customer deserted me two months ago." She lets him take the tray and motions for him to put it on the counter. "Forgive me if I was sweet talked by another handsome young man."

He scoffs, "Lucas ain't handsome." He catches the rag she tosses at him, "Not handsomer than me."

She laughs as he puffs out his chest. He's missed the spunky lady that is Maya's mother.

They work in relative silence as they dry the mugs together. A timer dings, Ms. Katy disappears to go check on it. He finally looks away from his task.

He has a huge vantage point where he's standing. From here he can see everything clearly. From the tables that are outside, to the long couch and the two seats that are on either side. He can even see his favorite spot from here. A table tucked away between two bookshelves.

"That spot has a new owner now." A glass of apple juice is placed in front of him, complete with swirly straw.

He almost drops the mug he was holding. "It does?"

Ms. Katy nods, tugging the mug out of his grasp. "A few days after you disappeared your friend Riley Matthews began sitting there."

He takes a sip of his juice before asking, "What does she do?"

"The same thing you did."

"Oh." He's surprised, Riley has always preferred the sanctuary of her bay window. It's odd, but at the same time, it isn't. After he saw her in the park he knew it was only a matter of time. "Does she come every day?"

"Without fail."

"What about—"

"She's still here, and so is he."

Zay nods, he expected as much. Ms. Katy pats his hand comfortingly, "Everything always works out the way it's supposed to. It's the one thing I've learned from life." Her engagement ring glitters in the faintly lit room. She pats his hand one more time before shooing him out of the bakery. It's time for school and the city is slowly beginning to awaken.

* * *

Lucas is the one who informs him of Farkle and Smackle's breakup. Contrary to what he originally believed it's Riley who witnesses the breakup, not him. According to Lucas it was Smackle who ended it.

The football he was tossing up and down while he lay lazily on his bed smacks him right in the face. "Why are you telling me this?" He asks, after the initial shock wears off.

Lucas' voice crackles through the speaker, "I think you know."

Zay picks up the phone tiredly, rubbing his stinging face. "It's too late for cryptic Friar, just say what you mean."

"You like her. And I think she likes you." Zay scoffs into the phone, there's no way she likes him. She has a boyfriend. _Had_ a boyfriend. "I saw you Zay. I saw both of you. That day in the hallway. The concern, the tension, the way Smackle fled. It's all there."

"You're imagining things."

"C'mon Zay, don't you think there's a reason she broke up with Farkle?"

"Yeah," He says in his are-you-stupid voice. "Riley."

"Besides her."

He takes offense. "Are you calling me a homewrecker?"

"Not exactly…."

He's done with this conversation. "'Night Friar."

"Just talk to her!" Is the last thing he hears before he hangs up.

He goes back to the lonely game of catch he was playing.

"She don't like me."

* * *

A week goes by and Isadora is nowhere to be found. His texts and calls go unanswered so he goes back to his usual spot in Topanga's. He's glad he doesn't have to fight Riley for it.

On the eighth day Farkle and Riley walk in, together. On instinct he cranes his neck, half expecting Isadora to appear from behind Farkle.

She doesn't.

He takes an angry pull from his swirly straw. The sight is comical, an angry high schooler glaring at two of his friends while drinking from his apple juice. He can feel the frown on his forehead becoming permanent. It's a good thing he's too young for wrinkles.

Zay stares at the space between the two teens. It's funny how when Isadora was around that space didn't exist. Except now she's not and the space does.

His frowning is interrupted by Ms. Katy placing a pastry in front of him. It's identical to the one he bought Izzy once upon a time. He suddenly gets the feeling that someone is watching him. There's no way it's a coincidence. He quickly scans the room, she's not there. He bolts like a madman to the door, almost tripping over an ottoman. He looks to the right first, nothing but a couple of college students doing college student stuff.

"You were right." He spins on his toes so fast that if he wasn't a ballerina he probably would have landed right on his ass. Her voice is raspy, like she's coming off a bad cold. Her hands are cupping a steaming mug. She motions towards the bakery. "About them."

Confused, he takes a seat across from her. "I thought things were going great?"

"All we did was study, I can do that by myself Isaiah."

"Is that what you told him?" He watches her play with the tea bag.

"That and other things."

"Oh."

* * *

"Why didn't you answer the phone?"

She shrugs, "I don't know." Her face tells him that she does. He smiles at the table, she always has been a terrible liar.

* * *

"Did you really push Farkle up against a locker?"

"How do you…"

"Farkle told me when I broke up with him."

Of course he did. "Traitor."

* * *

She's smiling even after he tells her to stop. It's drawing him in making harder for him to forget that she _just_ broke up with someone. Another pocket of silence engulfs them. It took him a while to get used to the ambient noise of the city but whenever he goes back to Texas he finds it hard to sleep without it.

* * *

"Did you enjoy the pastry?"

He rubs the back of his neck, finally noticing how dramatic his reaction had been towards a baked treat. "Yeah, it was..." He looks behind him, finally noticing the great view Smackle has into the bakery. The pastry sits abandoned next to his apple juice, "It was good."

"Aren't you going to thank me?" She's smirking at him. Her eyes shining mischievously behind her lenses as she leans back in her chair. A sharp contrast to the meek girl from the hallway. "I'm waiting."

He blinks, "Thank you?"

"A little sincerity would be nice Isaiah."

He stands up, making his way around the table he gently pulls her to her feet. He wraps his arms around her, not letting go when she stiffens.

"Thank you." Isadora remains aloof. He's about to let go when he feels her arms come up, hesitantly circling his torso.

Her voice is faint, but warm. "No Isaiah, thank you."

"For what?"

"Everything."

"You're welcome Izzy."

* * *

Katy clears off the table Zay deserted, smiling at the two silhouettes. She has a feeling he'll be changing spots sometime soon.

* * *

"Did you see that coming?" Riley asks Farkle in hushed tones.

Farkle looks at the couple hugging outside, a wry smile on his face.

"Yeah, I actually did."

* * *

Something new is taking shape. Zay can only hope it's as beautiful as the girl he's holding in his arms. He never wants it to end.


End file.
